


I'm With You

by Withstarryeyes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, F/M, Hope, Hopeful Ending, Hospitals, Hurt, Hurt Dean Winchester, Past Relationship(s), Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 13:38:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13788858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Withstarryeyes/pseuds/Withstarryeyes
Summary: You walked your fingers up the side of the metal railing, mumbling nonsense. It was dark, just after visiting hours had started and the sun was just coming up. Reds, yellows, and oranges bleeding into the room, casting a hellish look on the man in the bed.His sandy hair was sticking up all over the place, his eyes closed and every inch of his skin looked papery thin, tired, and dull. Even his freckles seemed to melt into him.Footsteps echoed in the hallway and you didn’t have time to jump out the window or hide before the door was swinging open, a tall man you hadn’t seen in years staring at you like you were a ghost. You froze.In front of the window, you looked like a demon, silhouette in shadow with the world burning behind you but you stepped towards him, his hazel eyes and kind, scared smile and ducked your head. Making yourself look smaller, apologetic.





	I'm With You

You walked your fingers up the side of the metal railing, mumbling nonsense. It was dark, just after visiting hours had started and the sun was just coming up. Reds, yellows, and oranges bleeding into the room, casting a hellish look on the man in the bed. 

His sandy hair was sticking up all over the place, his eyes closed and every inch of his skin looked papery thin, tired, and dull. Even his freckles seemed to melt into him. 

Footsteps echoed in the hallway and you didn’t have time to jump out the window or hide before the door was swinging open, a tall man you hadn’t seen in years staring at you like you were a ghost. You froze. 

In front of the window, you looked like a demon, silhouette in shadow with the world burning behind you but you stepped towards him, his hazel eyes and kind, scared smile and ducked your head. Making yourself look smaller, apologetic. 

“Y/N?” He breathed out, almost like you’d disappear if he stared too long or talked too loud. 

“Hi, Sam,” the name was foreign on your tongue, hadn’t been used in years. But the taste was right and the syllables seemed to fill up the gaping hole in your chest that had been widening since you’d broken into the hospital to see him, dying in a bed not big enough for his stature. 

“How did you...” Sam can’t finish the sentence, dumbfounded at your presence. You’d left a decade ago, too young and too heartbroken to bear hunting with the Winchesters after you and Dean had a fight too brutal, too harsh to fix. It hurt to be by him, to be reminded so you left, only a note and a phone number left on your bed to remind them you’d ever existed. 

“I don’t know, I just knew. I-I felt something was wrong so I...” You slipped to the back of the room, leaning on the wall, head down, fingers picking at the buttons on your jacket. “A fellow hunter had heard the news, he pointed me here. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have... I should go.” 

You tried to get past Sam, tears lining your eyes and your chin already dimpled with the wave of emotion drowning you. But as you moved, Sam caught your arm, smoothed a warm hand down your hair and pressed a shaky kiss to your forehead. 

“No, no. Don’t leave. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you when he wakes up.” 

You nodded, untrusting of your words. Sam pressed a hand to your back and folded you into a chair, his eyes filled with so much hope. Like he thought you might stay for good. You shut your eyes and curled in on yourself. Unsure, scared, drained. You had never planned on coming back, never planned to be anything but a ghost. But Dean, Dean was your everything once and you had missed him all these years. He was a legend, a protector, you couldn’t leave him to die without saying goodbye. 

“How bad is he Sam, really?” The silence that met your ears said all that Sam couldn’t. 

“Sleep, Y/N. You must be tired and he won’t wake up for a little longer.” 

You didn’t want to give in, didn’t want to waste whatever hours you had left to make up for your betrayal, the minutes you could fill up with some kind of penance but you’d been traveling all night and the room was warm. You fell asleep before you could feel Sam lay a blanket on your shoulders, rubbing them and smiling to see you again. 

You woke hours later, eyes burning in the direct sunlight, to the picture of the brothers playing poker. Dean was the first to notice you awake, his green eyes sharply tracking you as you sat up. Sam was the first to speak, licking his lips. 

“Hey, sleepy. We were about to order lunch.” 

You were eyeing Dean, too afraid to talk. But he just looked away, setting the cards down and shutting down, away from you. You felt your cheeks flush and fumbled for your jacket, feeling stupid and small. 

“That’s okay Sam, I-um, bye.”

The tears started to spill while you were halfway out the door. You didn’t even pull away when Sam wrapped you up in a hug, whispering brotherly things in your ear as you sobbed. 

“I’ll talk to him, Y/N, I promise.”

“I miss you,” you repeated back to him, over and over until you were no longer crying, just an empty shell standing in a life you’d already killed. Feeling like a graverobber and a liar all at once.

“Come back tomorrow, I’ll talk to him. He’ll come around.”

“Okay,” you said but you knew you wouldn’t come back, knew that without Dean’s permission there as nothing here for you. Nothing but the reminders of your shattered heart, things you had buried 10 years ago. You couldn’t. Not even with the glaring memory of Sam’s hopeful hazel eyes. 

For you, things were better left in the past, where they belonged. 

The tires of your car hit the highway just after dusk, the sunset less fiery than the sunrise, a little more peaceful, a little more somber. Purples bled more vibrantly than red and the darkness encroached. Your phone rang and you picked it up, itching for a new hunt. 

Instead of Garth’s voice on the line, it was Dean’s, gruff and deeper than you remembered but there. 

“Visiting hours start at 8 tomorrow, I’ll haunt your ass if you don’t show up.”

Before you could respond he’d already clicked off, leaving you with static and stars. But still you slowed at the first motel, still you made a plan, still, you resolved to come. You couldn’t miss your second chance with Dean, wouldn’t be a ghost again. 

Not in this life anyway. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys liked this! I know I haven't written supernatural in a hot minute but the song I'm With You by Vance Joy made me think of this idea and I just ran with it. If you liked it please leave a kudos or a comment, feedback really means a lot to me. 
> 
> Thanks, C


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